Inception: Live the Dream
by Steven Dalton
Summary: It has been one year, Dominic Cobb has retired from his job as an extractor; but he has lingering doubts that shadowy forces are after him. Enlisting the aid of his former team, Dom must seek the answers to his own sanity and his very past. R/R
1. Memory of a Dream

INCEPTION:

LIVE THE DREAM

Dramatis Personae

Leonardo DiCaprio as Dominic Cobb

Michael Caine as Miles Cobb

Marion Cotilliard Mal Cobb

Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Arthur Rolan

Tom Hardy as Jonathan Eames

Ken Watanabe as Saito Howsaki

Michaeil Caine as Samuel Davenger

Nina Dobrev as Emma Strout

Cillian Murphy as Robert Fischer

Daniel Craig as Marcus Coleman

Michael Clarke Duncan as Stephen Braxton

Part One  
>Memory of a Dream<p>

The Ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and freighted with the memories and the dreams of Time- H. P. Lovecraft

The coarse sand rubbed against his fingers as he lay there motionless, the waves of the shore lapping overtop his lifeless body as he struggled to raise his head. The sound of the clashing tide and the noise of seagulls filled his ears as he opened his bloodshot eyes, and spit sand from his mouth.

There, off in the distance; building castles made of sand were two young children.

Their laughter filled the air as they built and then, before he could make out whom they were; were called away by some unseen force and he slumped back down on the shore once more.

Dragging the man thru the finely crafted doors, the guards placed him in a chair on the far end of the table and then in a language he once knew spoke things to an older man, who stared at him as though he were a phantom.

Placing the gun down on the table and then a small, wooden top beside it; the guards left the room and the two of them were alone. In another instant, warm food had been brought to him; and the man eagerly wolfed it down even as his host seemed to be intently watching him.

At last, in a voice that could barely be made out he rasped, "I know what this is…" He was pointing toward the top, his fingers playing with him for a moment before adding, "I've seen one before…"

He paused in his meal, his eyes also mesmerized on the top as the aged Oriental man declared, "It belonged to a man I met in a half remembered dream…" He spun the top gently on the finely carved table, watching the toy as it began to spin and becoming hypnotized by it.

"A man who spoke of some… radical notions…" The tiny object continued to rotate across the table, each of them desperate to see the outcome and eve as it spun the businessman asked, "Have you come to kill me?"

In the distant corners of his mind, the ragged man felt a memory beginning to form; that this person in front of him he had seen before.

"I came to remind you… of something you once knew…" he muttered, his eyes distant and glazed as he watched the top and then added, "That your world is not real… to come back with me so that we can young men together."

"Cobb? Impossible…" the Oriental remarked and then added, "I'm an old man…"

"Waiting to die alone…" he added, another fragment piecing itself into his mind.

"Take a leap of faith…" the man pleaded, watching as the top spun and the Oriental man reached for the weapon nearby, and he realized that it was the only option. Raising the trigger, the aged businessman pointed it at him and said, "I'm sorry Mister Cobb, but in my dream… we play… by my rules…"

The last thing he heard was the sound of the gun cocking, and beyond that, the top just barely cresting toward the surface; eager to fall yet stubbornly resilient.

Eternally spinning.

**this story is to be a sequel to the original movie, so please watch the original to not be spoiled! please r/r**


	2. Chapter I

I

All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible. - T. E. Lawrence

"What is a dream? That is a question which has puzzled men for centuries, it has left us perplexed as we stare at our blank chalkboards; trying to come up with an impossible solution to the inner workings of our mind.

As we sleep, we enter a reality not dissimilar to our own and it we create worlds that no one could ever see shaped on this earth. Yet, in our infinite ego, men dare to challenge the impossible and in the dream there is no such thing. What is a dream, gentlemen? I'll tell you," he paused, watching as the class soaked in his every word and then leaned forward and declared, "It's a miracle, given to us to explore what otherwise might never be invented, created or discovered. Dreams give us the potential to work thru our worst problems and to find solutions that during the wee hours of the day we found impossible. Yet there, in that fraction of a memory that could elude us still; the answers are found."

He wrote quickly, the chalk scratching against the blackboard as he declared, "But in order to harness such a force is a skill only the best and brightest can hope to achieve.

And it is one I am hoping to teach you to. Do you envision what others never do? Do you try to create what others mock? Then I bid you welcome, because you have rightly chosen to come here to achieve those impracticalities and as such I consider you brave comrades."

The class cheered softly as he finished his speech and placed the piece of chalk down even as the bell rang and the aged professor quickly declared, "Make sure that you study the first ten pages concerning the inventive process, see you all on Monday!" As the students gathered their things, Miles Cobb took his glasses off and wiped them and then glanced at the entrance of his room to be sure he wasn't seeing things.

Yet even after doing so, the young gentleman was still standing there, leaning against the door as the freshmen and sophomores left; until at last they were alone. "Arthur," the aged professor muttered as he walked around his desk and added, "This is a bit of a surprise. What are you doing here?"

"This isn't a social visit I'm afraid," his son's former associate told him and then closed the door and added, "Have you heard from Dom lately?"

"Not since this summer, when I went to visit the grandchildren. Why?" Miles wondered.

"I hate to worry you," Arthur said hesitantly. "You're here already, that already worries me," the older man said with a smile. "I got a call from him a couple of nights ago, and well… it concerned me," the young businessman remarked.

"Well, what did he say?" Miles asked, leaning against his desk and resting his palms upon it for support. "He wasn't making much sense, he seemed convinced that someone was out to get him. And he said he needed my help. I had to promise him I would just so he would get off the phone," Arthur answered.

"How did he sound?" he asked gravely. "He was scared, I've not heard him sound this way since Mal died," the young man responded and added, "I have no idea what he was talking about, Miles. But I booked a flight this evening to New York, to meet up with him and hear him out."

"Dom hasn't been very… stable since he returned home," Miles admitted with a sigh and then added, "He might've just awoke from a nightmare… some lingering memory of the job." "We all suffer from that, occasionally," Arthur admitted.

"Yet this time you think it's different?" the aged professor asked. "I know Dom, and if he thinks he's in trouble… then he is probably right," Arthur answered. "You said you were leaving tonight?" Miles asked.

"Yes, Paris to New York at seven o'clock," the younger man answered. "Then I'm going with you," the professor decided. "Dom won't like it," Arthur muttered. "Then I'll just blame his brown nose assistant," Miles said with a smirk as he walked past his son's friend and left the room behind.


	3. Chapter II

II

**Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them**-Dion Boucicault

The clouds were thick over New York as their plane drifted beneath them and the skyscrapers of the famous city came into view even as a few shimmering rays of sunlight pierced the cloud cover and Arthur closed the flap on his window and turned to Miles and remarked, "Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day."

In less than half an hour they had touched down in JFK, and in the airport gathering their luggage.

"Dom said he would meet us here," Arthur noted as he walked across the bustling floor to regain his briefcase. Miles was already standing at the edge of the terminal, watching as people strode by and then commenting, "I think he isn't going to come."

"Well, you never know; he's surprised us before," Arthur replied with a smirk and then glanced across the lobby to a small diner and added, "I don't know about you, but I'm starving." Miles nodded, grabbed his tote bag and followed the young man toward the café where customers were busy drinking coffee and watching the latest news.

The volume wasn't too loud, or rather not as vibrant as the conversation in the diner as Arthur ordered them both a cappuccino and then sat down at a booth. "Think we should call him?" he wondered. Before Miles chose to answer, the smallest sound met both of their ears. It was gentle, but familiar and Arthur immediately quit talking and listened to it because he knew what it meant.

Placing his coffee down, the young man rose and turned to the booth behind them and watched in fascination as the tiny top spun on the glass table. The vibration between the toy and the table was enough to cause the noise to grow in intensity until at last the top rested on the table and Arthur glanced up at the man in the booth, one not familiar at all.

The man was a little older, perhaps in his mid forties, and well built clearly he'd been working out. He was wearing a black tie and a white suit, his hair breezed and messy, behind his glasses his blue eyes stared up at Arthur and smiled thinly.

"Where did you get that?" he asked the man. "From a very close friend," the Britain answered; his calm tone seemed to be testing Arthur as if questioning why he asked in the first place.

"That belongs to my son, actually," Miles stated as he glanced at the man and added, "Might I ask why you have it?" "So then you are the men I was intended to meet on behalf of Saito Enterprises?" the man asked, his voice surprised and adding, "I was told to come here and to do as instructed, and if I did so; the men searching for our quarry would come."

"Saito, you mean Howaski Saito, don't you?" Arthur asked cautiously and muttered, "What did you mean by quarry?"

"I'm afraid I don't know the answers to those questions. My employer is a man connected to Saito Enterprises, I know no idea if it is the president himself, but I have been told to escort you from this point," the Britain added and rose extending his hand and remarking, "My name is Marcus, Marcus Coleman. It's good to meet you both."

"I wasn't aware we were expected by anyone," Miles commented, glancing between the two men. "Perhaps it would be best if we went with him and found out why?" Arthur suggested, gesturing with his head toward the exit. Miles nodded in agreement and asked, "May I hold onto that?" Marcus took the top and placed it in the old man's hand before remarking, "You're familiar with it?"

"As I said, it belongs to my son," Miles answered. "I'm surprised, what is it for? Is it a collectable?" Coleman wondered.

"Long story," Arthur remarked and then added, "Hold on, I need to make a phone call before we go." He glanced at Miles for a moment and then walked to the side of the lobby and pulled out his cellphone, dialing Dom's number.

What greeted him was surprising. "The number you have dialed is no longer in service… if you feel you have dialed this number in error…" the automated message began and Arthur hung up, glancing at their mysterious escort and considering meeting Saito after a year.

This was turning out to be an interesting day, he thought grimly.


	4. Chapter III

III

**Forgiveness means letting go of the past**- Gerald Jampolsky

The sun crested over the top of the Ferris wheel, the last clear ray of daylight breaking forth even as the mighty contraption came to a pause and everyone left. The gentle but familiar sounds of children laughing and carnival attractions was beginning to fade as the man walked out of the booth and toward the beach of Coney Island.

One year ago, he might never have thought he would be here again with his children watching them build sand castles, blow bubbles or play volleyball. But this was in front of his eyes constantly, like a reminder to tell him to keep moving forward and to not turn away from the past. But standing there on the beach, his shoes left somewhere near the entrance of the fairgrounds; Dominic Cobb knew that this was not where he belonged.

The familiar and consistent lapping of the waves overtop his sore feet, the majestic and uncontrolled beauty of the island and the clear cloudless sky all seemed so real but could it really be such? He wanted to believe.

But as he walked away from the beach, and struggled to not stare at the faces of his beloved children Dom knew what he had to do. Something, somewhere in this dream was calling to him. And he had to find it.

As he strolled thru the carnival, the sky began to gray and then at last blacken, some emotion he was no doubt feeling creeping into his thoughts as he walked along and the island began to form a street. He was no longer in the fairgrounds at all, but rather his old homestead in Connecticut. Off in the distance, pruning the flowers and humming softly he saw his wife, smiling and content.

And the moment he recognized her; Mal looked up at him in surprise and he felt himself drawn closer. "No," he breathed gently, as he stood there looking into her perfect beautiful brown eyes. "You can't be here, I… we said goodbye," he mumbled in confusion even as she turned to him and breathed, "But I am here, Dom. That must mean something." He took a step back and said, "Mal, why are you here? Why? Just tell me, no more games."

"No darling, no games," she agreed as she reached out to touch his shoulder and whispered, "I'm here because you need me to be. I'm here to help you." At that, Dom laughed; he turned about and looked at his long dead wife and remarked, "To help me Mal? If you were helping me I wouldn't be seeing you here and now." "Darling, don't say those things. I know you love me, you love our children. You want to protect them, don't you?" she asked, her hair softly blowing in the wind and he realized a storm was breaking loose.

"I don't understand, I've been protecting them," Dom stated to which she answered, "No, you've kept the truth from them. Just like you did with me." She was barely five inches from his face now, if he closed his eyes he could feel her breath. But no, no he would be strong. _This is not real, this is not real_, he echoed in his mind trying to back away from the shade of his wife.

"Dom, don't do this! You have to believe me!" she pleaded. Something in her voice, it sounded real; sounded genuine and very familiar. This wasn't merely a dream, he realized; but a memory.

The rain was beginning to fall as they stood in the garden and Mal grabbed his wrists, a look of fear was in her eyes.

"Dom, you have to believe me. Please tell me you do," she begged. "Mal, yes; of course," he said nodding robotically and muttering, "What is it you're trying to tell me?" "No darling you don't understand, you don't. This is something you are supposed to remember, something you chose to forget," Mal said. He stared at her, his mind racing to understand and muttering, "How, Mal? How can I remember?"

"Go to the place you chose to forget, Dom. If you forget me though, you forget everything," she said, a tone of anger in her voice as she stepped away and remarked softly, "But that's what you want isn't it? To forget me? To go on without me?"

"No, Mal; no I could never forgot you," he answered, his hands trembling from the cold and stating, "I promise, I promise I'll find a way to remember." "If you don't, eternity with me… wouldn't be a bad second option… am I right?" she asked, a flicker of a smile on her lips.

"Yes… of course," he said with a nod and then stated, "But I'll do everything I can to prevent that." "I thought you might feel that way," Mal answered, her hand suddenly resting on a knife as they sat in their old home.

A harsh wind blowing, Ariandne leaping toward her doom… or toward her waking… Mal had been shot. No, no, he thought as he looked at her limp form. The dream was collapsing, the pieces of his fragmented memory were slipping away, and the towers, and the dreams they'd once built together all were fading. Until at last, Dom stood on the plains of an endless desert, alone and lost.

And he walked. And he did not look back.

For he knew that he couldn't, couldn't lose what little of himself he still had. But he did not walk for very long, until he saw off in the distance a glimmer of something. It was a table, and chairs.

There was wine on the table, and silverware, everything prepared for dinner for two. But he was alone, for the moment, he thought as he took a seat. He reached for the glass of wine and sipped it gently, and then saw thru the reflective glass an approaching figure. At first it was a shadow, then it took shape and walked like a man.

Finally the shape had features, eyes that were hazel, hair that was dark and fiery and a smile that could easily make the most stalwart man crouch in fear. But Dom, merely stared in fascination as the brunette approached him and smiled before stating, "Mister Cobb, is this seat taken?"

Wordlessly, he gestured for her to sit and she did so without question before glancing at the menus and asking, "So… what are we going to order?"

"Why… are you here?" Dom asked, his eyes never leaving hers. "Come on, Dom; is that the way you're going to treat me, after all these years?" she asked with another smile. "Emma," he breathed, and then repeated, "Why are you here?"

She smiled and answered back, "I came to find you, of course."


	5. Chapter IV

IV

**Time is but the shadow of the world on the background of Eternity**- Jerome K. Jerome

In the distant portions of the room, soft melodic tunes played against the backdrop of the noise. The conversation was trying hard to drown out the music, but to a patron of the arts the distinct and harmonious music could be heard no matter the circumstances. And as he listened to it, lost somewhere in that realm between thought and action, he recalled a memory that he wasn't sure he'd ever participated in.

It was half remembered and half buried somewhere in his mind and only the voice of his guests hoisted him out of the revelry. Thankfully the event was coming to an end, Saito thought as he rubbed his eyes and the crowd around him cheered for the musicians.

But he could not share their sentiment, not when he was plagued by real memories that were still fresh in his mind.

"Excuse me," he told his investors as he placed his drink down and walked out of the banquet hall. In the corridors beyond he could catch his breath, regroup his thoughts and remind himself of what was happening. Marcus should be back soon, Saito thought as he went to the restroom and quickly washed his face. He considered it somewhat rude to leave his business partners waiting but at the same time he realized he was in no shape to be offering any sort of advice, economic or otherwise.

As he stared at his features in the mirror, the echo of an eternity he once spent yet never experienced crept into the reflection. His eyes were aged, his skin as thin as paper. Abruptly, his cellphone rung and the image receded from his mind as he fumbled to answer it. Walking out of the bathroom briskly with the phone to his ear he asked, "Have you made it here?" the answer was quick and prompt as was his and then he returned to his guests and quickly excused himself by saying, "I'm sorry another appointment has come up. My sincerest apologies."

the investors gave him the eye of course but Saito didn't care at the moment. Nothing mattered except getting to the bottom of his predicament. He caught sight of his limousine approaching as he walked thru the sliding glass doors and down the steps of the building.

The vehicle came to a halt near to the curb and Marcus stepped out to greet him. "Afternoon sir," his bodyguard said as he opened the door to the back portion of the car for him. "Efficient as always I see," Saito said with a smirk as he got in and found himself staring at his two guests. "Mister Rolan, a pleasure to see you again," Saito said as he buckled his seatbelt and Marcus got back in as well.

"Saito, I wish I could say the same but considering the circumstances I'm afraid I can't," Arthur replied and then gestured to the aged gentleman beside him and added, "May I introduce you to Professor Miles Cobb."

"Ah, the honor is mine," Saito said, his mind focused on the task at hand as he proclaimed, "I'm sure you both must have many questions." "Only one sir," Cobb answered and narrowed his eyes as he remarked, "Where's my son?" Saito nodded leaning back and rubbing his goatee before stating, "It would be best if we discuss this privately. Marcus, take us to the loft." "Yes sir," the driver answered as he turned down the next street and Saito tried to smile politely at his guests, and wondered if they would indeed be able to help him.


	6. Chapter V

V

**History is a relentless master. It has no present, only the past rushing into the future. To try to hold fast is to be swept aside**- John F. Kennedy

As the four men entered the penthouse suite, Marcus stood to one side and folded his hands in front of himself his eyes watching the two newcomers as Saito quickly undid his tie and remarked, "Might I offer the two of you a drink? Scotch perhaps?"

"I'm fine thank you," the older man replied and Arthur said, "If you have wine.." Saito nodded and opened his fridge commenting, "I think gentlemen that we must skip the theatrics and get down to business, you asked me about your son, Professor Cobb and I'm afraid I must inform you I was contact by him about a week ago." The two men exchanged a glance and Miles said, "That's good news. That's what we came here, to see if he was in any trouble."

"It is my belief that he is," Saito answered as he passed Arthur the glass and added, "When he found me here he looked like a man plagued by nightmares. A man I'm afraid I have seen in myself all too often during the sleepless nights." "Did he say why he came to find you?" Arthur commented, and Marcus watched as the young man slowly drank the alcohol.

"He believed that someone was following him, and he asked me if I had been approached by anyone from Cobol Engineering. Of course I told him that I hadn't and assured him the it was all in his head. After all, I can personally report over the past year regaining my mental capabilities has been slow at best," Saito stated. "Yet you have reconsidered your position?" Arthur answered.

"That can happen when someone tries to kill you," Marcus said taking a step forward and adding, "I have been on Mister Saito's payroll for the past two months, and in that time at least three attacks have happened that we are aware of." "You think Dom might be right," Miles commented with a nod. "I don't like leaving anything to chance. Which is why I tracked him until he left two days ago," Saito answered.

"That's about the same time he contacted me," the young businessman realized. "Any idea where he was headed? And more importantly..." Miles paused and reached into his pocket to pull out the tiny spinning top and commenting, "Why would he give you this?"

"I can answer the first quite easily, his plane was bound for Moscow and he most likely arrived already. As for the totem, I'm afraid I do not know. But he insisted I keep it safe," Saito stated. "You do realize of course that the attacks on you may not be connected to Cobb at all," Marcus commented.

"There is a chance all of this might be coincidental," Arthur agreed an then added, "But Cobol has never been too pleased with Dom skipping out on the bill. It isn't a stretch to consider they figured out how he got back to the states." "Are my grandchildren safe?" Miles asked in concern, his eyes troubled and worried as Saito nodded and said, "No matter his mental state, your son was able to place them in the care of your ex-wife, Professor."

Miles nodded in satisfaction and leaned back even as Marcus walked in the center of the room and murmured, "The question before is simple, what is Cobb up to and why?" "You said he was headed to Russia, is that right?" Arthur asked as he placed the empty wine glass on the coaster and Saito nodded in acknowledgement. "Then I'm pretty sure I know where to look for him," Rolan said with a smirk and the elder man commented, "I better be getting frequent flyer miles for this."


	7. Chapter VI

VI

To learn of the future, seek the past- anonymous

**Eight Years Prior**

Amid the throng of people, unseen and unheard by the boisterous crowd, the woman crept toward the bridge that overlooked the river. Holding the martinis in her hands carefully, she glanced at the sky above and caught sight of the first explosion as it drifted across the starry heavens and the crowd grew even louder each shouting in glee for the new year.

But she didn't have time to concern herself with such a celebration, the brunette thought as she walked up the stone stairway and caught sight of her partner. The middle aged woman was leaning against the catwalk and pretended not to notice as she approached, but Emma knew better.

But for the sake of their cover everything had to be just so, she reminded herself as she approached her and commented, "Thought this might ease your nerves." Her partner took the concoction and laughed stating, "Hardly. But thank you for the consideration."

"You can back out if you want, Hill. I can handle this assignment on my own," Emma teased her. "No, I'm going to do my job just the same as you," her partner answered as she stared down at the crowd and another firework lit up the sky.

"Hard to believe isn't it?" Hill commented as she swirled her drink and Emma muttered, "That we were hired, or that we're actually in someone's subconscious?" "Both, it makes me uneasy penetrating someone's inner most thoughts like this," the older woman stated.

"You've had no problem with it before. Is it simply because our target is personal this time?" Emma asked and then froze as she spotted him down in the crowd below, unaware of what would soon occur. "I suppose so," Hill conceded.

"Then I suggest you remind yourself of what Cobol does to those who fail," she remarked bitterly and then stared at her partner hard and asked, "Again I'm asking you do you want to back out?"

"No, I can handle this," her partner answered. "All right then, let's get to work," Emma said as she finished her drink and walked down into the crowd again.

It wasn't hard to find their mark, he was busy making a toast to the people in the room standing on top of a piano. And then as he finished the projections cheered and he smiled and got down, and was about to walk off when Emma called out, "Dom? Is that you?" He paused, turning about and staring at the brunette and asking, "I'm sorry... Do I know you?"

"No, you probably wouldn't," she conceded and then turned about to see where Hill had gotten an empty table and remarked, "I'm a representative of Cobol Engineering. We wanted to discuss with you the possibility of becoming a business partner." "Not interested," Cobb answered to which she hastily added, "Just five minutes of your time. I promise you won't be disappointed."

The young man was considering it and then finally consented and followed her to the table. As they approached, Hill stood and smiled at their mark, extending her hand and stating, "Dominic Cobb, so nice to finally meet you. I'm Mallory Hill." "Mal?" he repeated in surprise with a smile to which her partner answered, "I see you remember me after all." "How could I forget?" Dom asked as he took a seat. "As it so happens its your memory we are interested in," Mal said with a smile back at him. "Your friend said something about a job?" Cobb commented. My partner nodded and answered, "Inception."


	8. Chapter VII

VII

_**Never play cat and mouse if you're a mouse**_- Don Addis

The back corner of a bar was where Jonathan Eames felt most at home.

There, between the shadows and the cigarette smoke; he could watch the room pass by and study those in them. He could find his prey, and choose what tactic would work best. Tonight, he was on top of his game, smoking a cigarette and listening intently as his mark ordered a drink and also seemed to be waiting for someone.

With any luck, that someone can be me, he thought as he put out the cigarette and approached the counter. "Mister Davenger?" Eames asked as he approached.

The wide eyed businessman didn't jump in surprise but merely paused and asked, "Do I know you?" "Mitchell Holmes, I represent the companies you've been trying to buy out," the con man answered as he sat down beside his mark. Davenger looked him over for a minute and then muttered, "You've come too late I'm afraid. Mitigations ended earlier today." "Yes I saw that on the news," Eames said with a nod as he leaned against the counter and murmured, "Yet here you are, alone and apparently miserable. One might wonder why?"

Davenger was apparently in no mood for such a game and growled, "I don't know what you're implying but if you really are connected to those sharks in fine suits then I'll tell you the same thing I told them. That this isn't over, not by a long shot."

"If I didn't agree with that sentiment, do you imagine I'd be here?" Eames asked as he gestured for the bartender to bring him something strong and muttered, "You and I both know that a merger with Cobol Engineering is precisely what we need to get back on our feet again. Otherwise both of our conglomerates will soon be filing for bankruptcy."

"The problem is a matter of legality, Mister Holmes. International contracts can't be violated simply because of the fact that circumstances have changed over the past year and Proclus Global is now the leading enterprise of energy," Davenger replied bitterly as he guzzled down his drink and added, "So unless you can think of a way for those laws to be done away with, I fail to see the point in continuing with our discussion."

Eames smiled, knowing that he had him now. That sound of desperation was all too familiar, the con man thought as he glanced up at the television screen and whispered, "There is… one way a problem like this could be resolved. But it's not what you suits call within the boundaries of the law."

The businessman was staring at his drink, obviously considering his words and stating, "Cobol went down that road before, Mister Holmes. Our success rate was dismal." "You were handling the problem from an angle that was predictable, sir. And you were doing it alone, not with the aid of other equally desperate businessmen," Eames commented and then sighed and said, "But, it isn't my funeral to worry about. Should you change your mind, you know how to find me."

The con man slipped him a business card, to which Davenger nodded and Eames placed the alcoholic beverage down and left the bar. Outside in the snowy streets of Moscow, he smirked and wrapped his heavy coat around his body tighter and then hailed for a taxi.

A short drive later he was in the eastern district of the ancient city and approaching the apartment he'd been renting for the past month or so. After hopping out and paying the fare, he quickly made his way inside and to his room. Only to find there within, that he was not alone. "Showed yourself in did you?" Eames asked Arthur as he tossed his coat off. The younger man was examining a chess set which was on the table and commented, "I was beginning to think I'd gotten the wrong address."

"I'm glad I'm so predictable," the con man commented as he walked to his bathroom and Arthur called out, "You don't seem surprised to see me." "On the contrary I was beginning to wonder when you might be showing up, didn't think it would be this fast though," Eames said as he gathered his clothes and then walked into the main room and placed them in his basket.

"Dom came to see you?" Arthur guessed. "Got in one," Jonathan answered with a wink and then added, "He said he'd called you, before he came this way." "I've been tracking him for several days now, and I've managed to pick up a few tag alongs. Turns out he had a meeting with Saito about a week ago," Arthur stated.

"Did he now?" Eames said as he leaned against his own kitchen island and stated, "Well I suppose that would fit with what I know." "And what might that be?" Arthur wondered. "You said there were others?" Eames asked.

"Yes, they're staying at a hotel not far from here," Arthur answered with a nod. "Tell you what, give me a chance to change clothes real quick and I'll hitch a ride with you," the con man suggested. "Are you telling me you know what this is all about?" Arthur wondered in surprise. Patting his old friend on the shoulder, Eames answered, "No worries, darling. I'm sure you'll be able to keep up."


	9. Chapter VIII

VIII

_**We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think**_- Buddha

"Well, it looks like the old gang is getting together again," Eames said as he took a seat on the couch and began to munch on the bowel of cashews there. Miles crossed his arms over his chest and commented, "I'm so glad you find this amusing Jonathan."

"On the contrary, I'm as intrigued as the rest of you are, from what Arthur tells me, you've been chasing after Cobb for days now. I think that's lovely."

"And you know where we can find him?" Marcus asked. Eames glanced at the hit man Saito had hired and commented, "I don't believe we've had the pleasure." "Marcus is with me, he is trustworthy," Saito commented as he leaned against the wall remarked, "Enough stalling, where is Cobb?"

The con man smiled evenly at all of them and remarked, "Well that's just the thing, I was specifically told to not let you find him." "By who?" Miles asked. "Him," Jonathan repeated with a smile. "Now you're talking in riddles," Marcus muttered. "Cobb doesnt want what he's planning to go awry," Eames explained.

"My son gave up his life of crime a year ago," Miles commented. "Then I suppose he's decided to come out of retirement," the con man said with a shrug. "And why should we believe anything you say?" Saito's bodyguard wondered standing in front of Eames. "Is that a threat?" "Gentlemen please!" Saito commented walking toward them and telling his bodyguard, "I can vouch for his reliability. We have to assume that Mister Cobb has something else in mind for gathering all of here in this frozen wasteland."

"Funny you should mention that. Arthur be a love and pull up those files I told you about earlier," Eames instructed to which Rolan walked over to his briefcase, opened it and started up his laptop. Miles squinted and watched the screen as the Russian words changed to English and commented, "What exactly are we looking at Jonathan?"

"Senator Stephen Braxton, currently the runner up in a political scandal between the United States and Fischer Murrow," Arthur answered and added, "Currently on vacation here in Russia for the next few weeks." "Robert Fischer is a broken man with no aspirations for anything anymore," Saito whispered, his voice sounding very distant.

"Odd, Cobb said that too," Eames commented and added, "Whatever this scandal is, Fischer and Cobol Engineering are right in the middle of it and that will be costly for the conglomerate."

"A scandal like this, should it be made public could ruin the already floundering company," Arthur agreed. "And where does my son fit into all this?" Miles asked. "Dom told me that if we're going to stop this from happening, we have to go to Fischer," Eames stated. "What?" Saito asked in surprise. "Why might that be?" Arthur wondered.

"Because I'm about ninety percent sure that Fischer figured out what happened a year ago," Eames stated evenly. "Impossible, the job was completed!" Saito said, his eyes wild and filled with fear. "If as you say, Fischer knows what Cobb did to him; then it is possible he was behind the attempts on Saito's life," Marcus commented softly.

"Which is why we're going to have to convince Fischer otherwise, or we'll all have a price on our head," Eames answered. "And how precisely Jonathan, do you propose we do this?" Miles asked narrowing his eyes once more. "Ah," the con man answered with another smirk as he leaned forward and remarked, "I thought you would never ask."


	10. Chapter IX

IX

Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.- Anais Nin

High above the rocky shore, the aged man stared down at the beach and watched the waves relentlessly crash against the rocks; beating down the memories of the land and taking them to sea. His eyes were not what they used to be, for youth had come and gone.

Yet as he looked down at the beach he was certain that he could make out the figure of a man, and he called for his guards and pointed down below. They left him there to lean against the window, and he watched them approach the young man dragging him off the beach. And like an echo that was receding in his mind, the businessman felt a fear cling to him when the doors opened and the deranged man was brought in.

Saito's eyes flew open as he gripped the chair, and then darted around the room trying desperately to adjust to the darkness. Rising from his armchair, the businessman walked to the bathroom and washed his face several times trying in vain to return to the present.

"Sir?" a voice called out and he turned about, his eyes still wild and feral as his bodyguard flicked on the light and muttered, "Is everything all right sir?" Saito stared at him for another moment and then softly laughed as he clung to the sink and replied, "It is quite ironic, my friend; that I have said those words before. Except the last time, I was not the dreamer."

"Apologies sir, I did not want to stir up old memories," Marcus told him. "Memories… are all I have left to keep me grounded," Saito said as he stared at the mirror and then muttered, "I need to speak with Professor Cobb alone."

"Yes sir," his bodyguard answered, closing the door softly and leaving him for the moment. Saito was still staring at his reflection when Miles entered the bathroom and the Oriental man smiled as he saw the older gentleman remarking, "I have fallen asleep many times since I met your son. Yet never have I truly been free of the dreams."

"You never can be," Miles stated as he placed his hands in his pockets and added, "The time you spent in Limbo will haunt you, like a parasite; and if you allow it… grow like one."

"There are times I question my own sanity," Saito stated as he peered at his wild eyes and then muttered, "Do you know what it is like to look into the mirror and to wonder, whether or not you're on the correct side of it?"

"Dom did," Miles said with a nod.

"Is it possible, Professor; that the same madness which is creeping into my mind now is also affecting him?" The Professor sighed as he placed a shoulder on him and remarked, "I'm afraid to say that at this point, I'm not sure." "And now I have come to learn that Fischer may not have been successful," Saito said with a laugh and muttered, "A lifetime wasted, and as a reward I receive a broken mind."

"Dom was certain that Fischer was deceived. It is possible though that someone else might've figured out what you did, and has come searching for blood," the elder man remarked.

"So we are meant to chase shadows?" he asked in a whisper.

"If it leads us to the truth," Miles said with a nod and then added, "If you do not feel you should be a part of this, I would understand. My son's concerns may have nothing to do with you." Saito shook his head softly as he stood up and remarked, "They have everything to do with me, I'm afraid. Cobb and I are tied together, bound by the dream we shared. He came to me for help, knowing that I would be the next victim. I cannot back down now." "Then we had best get prepared," Marcus said from the doorway and added, "News just broke that Fischer is trying to hold a fundraiser while he's here. I have a feeling the boys in Cobol won't be too happy that their former partner is going solo."

Miles nodded and walked out of the bathroom and for another moment Saito stared at his reflection, fighting to bring back the young man he knew was still there. But it was pointless, the image refused to change. Smashing the mirror in frustration, the businessman clenched his bleeding fist and then turned around and followed the others out.


	11. Chapter X

**Revenge is barren of itself: it is the dreadful food it feeds on; its delight is murder, and its end is despair**.- Friedrich Schiller

"You mustn't question a plan before its even executed," he heard Eames say in his head over and over again. But... You're not the one sticking your neck out here, Arthur thought as he walked into the structure. Guests for the fundraiser were signing in nearby as he glanced around nervously and tried to look like one of the crowd.

"It's simple, really. We're here to find out what Fischer knows that way we can know where to go from here," the con man had said, Arthur thought as he entered the wide open ball room. The floor was emptied for the guests, all of whom were mingling about in various circles as he made his way to the buffet line.

He could see various Cobol thugs standing around the edge of the crowd, keeping an eye on the proceedings and he felt his heartbeat increase. He got himself a glass of wine, and then walked over to the fountain at the north portion of the chamber and watched the crowd. He replayed in his mind the specifics of their last job, and also his own misgivings about Inception in the first place. Now apparently his fears had come true, he thought. But for a subject to realize it after so long was unheard of, he thought.

Unless Fischer isn't the one pulling the strings here, he thought as he flicked his eyes to the balconies above and saw more of Cobol's hired manpower. Then he caught sight of Fischer, distracted and talking to some woman across the chamber and Arthur seized his opportunity. Walking toward them, the young man chose another guest at random and said, "Dimitri? Is that you?" The other man looked at him in confused even as Arthur kept an eye on Fischer. "I'm sorry do I know you?" the guest asked.

"It's me, Bruce!" Arthur was saying. Fischer was dismissing himself... Moving this way.

"I'm sorry you have the wrong person," the other man remarked even as Arthur nodded and then gingerly turned away, timing it perfectly where he hit Fischer gently and his wine splattered onto the other man's suit.

"Ah! Watch where you're going!" Fischer said in surprise as he raised his arms up and switching gears, Arthur replied, "Oh my god I'm so sorry! Are you all right?" Fischer was still looking down at his stained suit and muttered, "It's fine. Just another thing going wrong tonight." "I can pay for that," Arthur said as he reached into his pocket pretending to look for his wallet and the other man answered, "No, it's fine really. Just forget it."

"I insist I at least get you a drink then," Arthur replied and then added, "I feel terrible ruining our host's appearance." "Is there a problem here?" another voice broke in and Arthur froze even as the wide eyed man walked toward them.

"No, Samuel it's fine," Robert answered. "I can get you another coat sir," the middle aged man answered but Fischer was already shedding the clothing and commenting, "Not like anyone will remember I was here." Arthur watched in silence as the man left and then turned to the wide eyed shorter man who merely shrugged and said, "Care to take a little walk, Mister Rolan?"

Arthur watched helplessly as his mark went the other direction and then followed the older man up the flight of stairs to gaze down at the mingling crowd. "I see you're still up to your old tricks, Arthur," Samuel stated dryly as he peered down.

"Somehow I knew this trail would lead to you. What are you doing here?" Arthur asked in frustration and then after Samuel remained quiet he muttered, "Don't pretend you have no idea that I was here or Dom for that matter." After another moment of silence, Arthur remarked, "What are you doing here?" "Here's what is going to happen, Mister Rolan. You and your friends are going to be working for me soon. And in the next five minutes you'll know why. But then again, you've always worked for me, whether you knew it or not," Davenger remarked. "I left Cobol a long time ago," Arthur answered.

"You ran," Samuel said turning to him and remarking, "No wonder you stuck with Cobb. You two are no different as far as I'm concerned." "Where is he?" Arthur asked. "Funny you should ask," the wide eyed man said glancing down at the crowd again and remarking, "How do you test to see if you're not dreaming Arthur?"

He narrowed his eyes at his associate and answered, "You initiate a kick." "Hmm," Samuel said with a tight smile and then muttered, "It's too bad this isn't a dream." He passed a business card and muttered, "Tell your forger, don't call me. I'll call you." Samuel walked off and Arthur glanced down at the crowd again and this time he did have to be surprised.

Dominic was here, he thought. His old friend was walking thru the crowd, his eyes focused on something. Arthur watched as Dom got closer to his target. Robert Fischer. And then he was reaching inside his coat... Oh god no, Arthur thought frantically as he bolted from the cat walk and down the stairs. Dom was raising his arm now… And as Arthur reached the bottom step, a lone shot rang out.


End file.
